Until the Day I Die
by Slytherisa
Summary: Rated for Language. OotP Spoilers. Harry's view, reaction, and decision about the prophecy and his complex feelings for the wizarding world


**AN:** Yo people! This is a songfic that popped into my head the second I heard it on the radio. It's been floating around in there for a few days, and it was distracting me from my main story (Tome of Truth). I just had to get it out; I hope you enjoy my brain waste!

**Disclaimer:** Lemme see…Harry Potter characters and story references belong to Ms. J.K. Rowling, and "Until the Day I Die" lyrics belong to Story of the Year.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Summer's almost over.

I'm on the lawn in the backyard. I can't go very far from home, or prison, as I like to call it. Most know it as Privet Drive. True, I may have restrictions on me; I may have boundaries; but that doesn't mean I won't try to get as far away from them as possible. But you can't get very far with fully trained Aurors and other wizards on your arse. So if I want to get out and far, far away from my "family," I come out here. Hmm. Well, at least I'm out.

What do I do out here? Think. About painful things; things I've thought about incessantly, unfortunately. I won't talk to anyone–I can't. Maybe it's because that kind of thing isn't encouraged around here, or maybe I'm stuck in some defense mechanism to dam up the pain inside (Hmm. I see my inner psychologist is coming out). Whatever it is, I can't talk. I haven't said a word since I got here. Not even to Hedwig, though she seems to understand. One unfortunate side effect to my silence is that it gives way to more thinking time. Great. Just what I _don't_ need.

I wish I didn't have to keep thinking, but force myself to. I need every minute I can get.

I've come to a decision regarding that _fucking_ prophecy. I came to it a long time ago–about a week after my arrival, as a matter of fact. I need to think on it every day though. Every day I picture all the possible outcomes and consequences potentially caused by this little decision of mine. It's called _foresight_. It's something I should have learned long ago…

It hurts, unbearably so, to think about that–my stupidity and recklessness–and more importantly, what it cost me. I wish I didn't have to think about it as often as I do, but I will–to prevent it from ever happening again.

What's this decision I keep going on about? Simple, really. I will fight Voldemort to the death.

**Until the day I die**

**I'll spill my heart for you**

I only hope it's to his death.

You'd think I'd hold some kind of grudge against the wizarding world for all this shit I'm forced to deal with. Hell, I almost feel _obligated_ to. But I can't do that. I love the magical world, with all of me–all that's left of me, anyway. 

I can't help but wonder if I was just born to kill or be killed, like I was only supposed to by a pawn in this bloody war. At best it feels like I'm living on borrowed time with this death sentence hovering over my head. A death sentence for not only myself, but for the world I can't live without.

**As years go by**

**I race the clock with you**

**But if you died right now**

**You know that I'd die too**

**I'd die too**

The wizarding world rescued me from my horrible Muggle life. Even now, after all that's happened to me (and because of me), I can honestly say I could never wish I hadn't left the Muggle world. For the first time in my life, I knew I wasn't a freak. For the first time I had friends. For the first time I had a place I could call _home_. For the first time, I was _happy_.

When that home of mine was threatened, I rushed to defend it as best I could.

And I was successful.

Repeatedly.

Every time Voldemort (and once a misunderstood godfather) threatened my friends, my life, my home, I stood up to him and brought him down. Now I've been called upon to do it once more.

**You remind me of the times **

**When I knew who I was**

**But still the second hand will catch us**

**Like it always does**

And I will. Voldemort has already come back and gained strength, no thanks to the fucking Ministry of Magic. Ha, Ministry indeed. Those idiots, led by that doddering fool Cornelius Fudge, only served to aid in Voldemort's rise last year. Now that the public knows of his return, I can only hope things will improve.

But I know they won't. Much as I'd love to believe I can put my already overtaxed faith in the Ministry, I know something's going to happen to ruin everything I've worked for–everything I've sacrificed. Now all I can do is await Voldemort's next attack on my life, where I know I'll have to sacrifice even more to remedy the mistakes of others. Again. And the sad part is, I'm willing to do it.

**We'll make the same mistakes**

**I'll take the fall for you**

**I hope you need this now**

**Cause I know I still do**

I'm fully willing to sacrifice the only thing I can rightfully claim as mine to give: my life. Don't ask me why; _I_ don't even know the answer to that. The magical world gave me everything I'd always wished for–friends, family, proper parental figures, adventure, fun, joy–and now they're all slowly being ripped away from me.

But even with all the misery the wizarding world is raining down on me, I can't help but fight for what's left. Those precious few moments out of which I can still find some kind of peace and happiness. It's the same way that I can't help but wonder when I turned into a masochist.

**Until the day I die**

**I'll spill my heart for you**

**For you**

**Until the day I die**

**I'll spill my heart for you**

I want to, I _need _to, talk to somebody about this whole prophecy deal. And about Sirius…but I know that if I get started on him, I'll end up spilling everything about the prophecy. As much as I need to talk to someone, I could never give anybody such dangerous information. The fewer people who know about it, the fewer people who are in danger of having the info tortured out of them, you know. And I don't know if I can handle being the cause of another death. 

**Should I bite my tongue**

**Until blood soaks my shirt?**

**We'll never fall apart**

**Tell me why this hurts so much**

But I can't just keep it in forever. I feel like I'm about to explode with the sheer volume of this secret. The only other person in the world who knows what I do is Dumbledore.

Dumbledore.

**My hands are at your throat**

**And I think I hate you**

Yes, _Dumbledore_. The Master Manipulator who apparently _cared too much_ about me to take the necessary precautions regarding the future of the _entire_ wizarding world. The Foddering Fool who only wanted me to by happy with a DEAD GODFATHER.

…

Now my only ally in a war I can't possibly win alone. Have things really changed that much?

**But still we'll say, "Remember when,"**

**Just like we always do**

It seems as though nothing can ever be the way it was before.

**Until the day I die (Until the day I die)**

**I'll spill my heart for you**

In a way it never will be.

**My hands are at your throat**

**And I think it hate you**

Okay, in several ways.

**We made the same mistakes**

**Mistakes like friends do**

But some things will always be the same.

**Until the day I die**

**I'll spill my heart for you**

**For you**

Some more than others.

**Until the day I die**

**Until the day I die!**


End file.
